Nothing But Words
by Whatever Makes You Break
Summary: Morgana Malfoy has hated Sirius Black since infancy. She, the cynical outcast, feared by even her fellow Slytherins. He, the notorious playboy, adored by the entire female population. Will their pasts bring them together or tear them apart? SB/OC & LE/JP
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter One**_

_The Diary of Morgana Malfoy_

--

_Family quarrels are bitter things. They don't go  
__by any rules. They're not like aches or wounds;  
__they're more like splits in the skin that won't  
__heal because there's not enough material._

--

**A/N: **_This takes place during the 5__th__ book._

Harry climbed the staircase of Grimmauld Place, followed by his two best mates. Sirius suggested the trio battle their relentless boredom, whilst cooped up inside The House of Black, by rummaging through some of his old books. He remembered owning several pleasure reading books on Quidditch and fictional topics in his youth, but he could not guarantee the trio that they still remained in his childhood room. He half expected Regulus to have nicked them or his mother to have burned them not long after he left for good.

"Harry?" asked Hermione, apprehensively trailing behind the boys. "You're sure Sirius won't mind us looking around his bedroom?"

"Yeah, it's fine," said Harry in a despondent tone. "He said those books are probably still in his closet or somewhere." Harry felt haunted by unpleasant memories, most of which didn't even belong to him. The trio crept down the desolate hallways, cluttered with portraits of dead witches and wizards that Sirius grew-up despising.

The three friends stood before Sirius's bedroom door. Harry opened the door and stepped inside in front of Ron and Hermione. It looked utterly untouched since the last time Sirius lived, or existed rather, within it's walls. The same discolored banners hung lazily from the ceiling. The only change was the obvious increase of dust and grime coating every inch of the ancient bedroom. Harry's fingers traced Sirius's old motorcycle posters that had acted as wallpaper for so many years.

They started to walk about the room, looking about for leather-bound books. Harry heard a faint squeal from Ron as a decent sized spider fell from one of the countess cobwebs, decorating the four corners.

Hermione pulled open one of the rickety drawers from Sirius's armoire. A medium sized keepsake box took up the entire drawer. She abandoned her prior misgivings about a bit of rummaging through Sirius's things and opened the box to examine the contents inside; a pair of thick circular goggles, an old wooden club, and a black and white picture. It was of a young Sirius, James, Lily, and a rather good looking teenage witch with a long black ponytail that Harry didn't recognize. The mystery girl's Quidditch uniform was not that of Gryffindor like the other two boys, but he couldn't distinguish it without color. Only Lily wasn't dressed in their Quidditch robes while they waved happily up at him. Sirius and James were in the middle, Lily on James's arm and the mystery woman on Sirius's, the two boys had their other arms draped over each other's shoulders. Harry had never seen Sirius look so happy.

"You never told us Sirius played Quidditch," said Hermione. Harry walked over to Hermione's discovery.

"I-I didn't know," said Harry. He picked up the picture, blew off some of the filth, and polished the glossy photo with his shirt. Harry folded the picture in half and stuffed it in his back jean pocket. Sirius had never even mentioned playing the Wizarding sport before, not once. This wasn't something Harry thought Sirius would hesitate to discuss with him. It made Harry wonder what else Sirius had left out from his past.

Harry returned Sirius's other possessions into his forgotten keepsake box. The trio had found a couple pairs of dirty socks, a few posters of Muggle girls in bikinis, and a handful of motorcycle magazines from Sirius's youth before they discovered the small pile of books hidden upon the darkest corner of his closet.

Ron lifted Harry down off his shoulders. Harry stumbled off Ron's gangly shoulder blades and toppled clumsily backwards. A loud _CRACK_ could be heard as Harry tumbled onto his backside. The termite ridden wooden floors gave way under his weight thus snapping the ancient floorboards beneath him.

"Harry!" exclaimed Hermione. She and Ron rushed to help him up from his splintered trap. They pulled him up to his feet by either arm. He groaned in slight pain.

"You alright, mate?" asked Ron.

"Yeah," said Harry. Hermione was no longer paying attention to the wellbeing of her dear friend. She was on all fours, digging into the hollow opening Harry's buttocks had so conveniently created. She pulled her leg up from under her and kicked away a bigger space with her foot.

"Bloody hell, Hermione," said Ron. "The place may be a pit, but-"

"Shut up, Ron," said Hermione. "There's something down here." She pulled out a couple ancient looking locked dark leather diaries bound together with a thick belt. Harry took the aging stack of diaries from Hermione, sitting on Sirius's mattress with it on his lap. Ron and Hermione followed suit.

"Diaries?" said Ron. "I never thought Sirius to be the diary-type." Hermione rolled her eyes and snatched the journals from Harry's hands, loosening the belt and separating the books.

"Let's have a look then," said Hermione. She used her thumb to clear away the thick grey dust that hid faded golden inscription engraved upon wrinkled leather cover. The name and the handwriting was not that of Sirius, "Morgana Malfoy."

Harry's ears perked up at Hermione's reading. Ron poked at the diary like it was some sort of treacherous monster.

"You don't think she's related to-," started Ron, scratching the back of his neck.

"I doubt there is another Malfoy family, Ronald," said Hermione. "It has to be _those_ Malfoys."

"Then why would Sirius have something belonging to a Malfoy?" said Harry suspiciously, taking the diaries back from Hermione. "His only tie to them is the fact Narcissa is married to Lucius, and I've never even heard of a _Morgana_ Malfoy."

"S-Should we just ask him?" asked Ron.

"Certainly not," said Hermione quickly. "We'll just put it back where I found it and pretend it doesn't even exist. I'm sure Sirius wouldn't appreciate us taking advantage of his trust that we wouldn't snoop through his things."

Ron and Harry peered over at each other out of the corner of their eyes. They shared weary expressions, obviously disagreeing with Hermione's suggestion to put the diaries away and forget about them. Harry had never really realized how little he knew about his godfather until he stepped into a virtual time capsule of his youth. He wondered if these diaries, this mysterious woman's diaries, could possibly give him a look into a part of Sirius's life that he hadn't known about before.

"Harry Potter," Hermione reprimanded, sending him a warning glare. "Give me the diary."

"No," said Harry, standing up off the bed and hiding them behind his back. "Just a look couldn't do any harm."

"Tell that to Ginny," retorted Hermione. "I'm sure she thought Tom Riddle's diary was harmless-"

"Oh, I'm sure Sirius is in possession of a possessed diary," said Ron sarcastically. "Come off it, Hermione. It's obvious they haven't been touched in decades; he won't even know they're gone."

"No-" started Hermione.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened to reveal a tired looking Lupin. Harry kept the diaries hidden behind his back while the trio scurried in front of the crevasse they had clumsily created in the floor, hoping Remus would overlook it. Lupin initially sported a friendly grin upon his entrance but his expression changed to that of suspicion at the sight of the trio's guilty faces.

"What's the matter?" asked Lupin, furrowing his brow.

"Nothing," they said hastily in unison.

"Well, Molly wanted you three to know dinner is ready," said Remus, still clearly unconvinced that they weren't up to something.

"We're not hungry," said Harry.

"Speak for yourself, mate-" started Ron before Harry elbowed him in the gut to silence him.

"Er-alright then," said Lupin, still eyeing them charily. "I'll tell Molly to save you plates for later."

Lupin nodded and slid back out the door, looking back once more. Harry hurried to pull over Sirius's stained wool rug over the wooden cavern. After making certain no one, especially Sirius, was roaming the hallways they darted into Ron and Harry's shared bedroom. Harry sat down upon his bed along side Ron; Hermione reluctantly followed in suit. She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted at the idea of them reading someone's personal property.

"I guess the best way to do this is to start from the beginning," said Harry, trying to pull open the lock upon the first diary with no avail. Ron reached over to Hermione's curly bun and plucked a pin from her hair without asking permission. She shot him a nasty glare and grasped at her bun to fix it. Ron slid the pin into the diary's lock and meticulously maneuvered it about the bolt until he heard a distinct _CLICK_.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" asked Hermione, trying not to sound too impressed.

"You spend your whole life around Fred and George, and you're bound to pick up a few things," he shrugged, handing her the pin back.

"Lovely," she sighed, looking over at the journal curiously. "Well, get on with it then. The quicker you snoop the quicker we can put the diaries back and forget I ever found them."

"Yeah, whatever," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "What's it say, mate?"

"The earliest dated entry is June, 1970. That would be…just before Sirius's First Year," said Harry, reading the feminine handwriting in the top right hand corner.

Hermione looked awkwardly from Ron to Harry. No one knew what they were going to find out. They'd never heard of a Malfoy by the name Morgana, and they couldn't imagine why.

"What's it say, Harry?" said Ron. "Go on, and read it aloud." Ron squinted to make out the cursive script along the discolored pages. Harry immediately complied and began to read.

_June 28__th__, 1970_

_I've hated Sirius Black since the moment I laid eyes on him, which wasn't even by choice. The Blacks and the Malfoys are two of the wealthiest, pure-blood aristocratic dynasties in the Wizarding world. Because of our parents' delusions that anyone who wasn't a pure-blood wizard didn't deserve to breathe the same oxygen as their children, Sirius and I were thrust into a faux kinship since birth to avoid bonding with any children who were of "dirty blood." We'd had the misfortune of being required to experience every childhood milestone together since our first birthdays. We had been raised in virtually identical environments, yet the only thing Sirius and I had ever had in common was our distaste for our own birthrights. He hated me, and I hated him. That was how things had always been, and that was how things would always be..._

Out of thin air, the trio was sucked forward into the pages of the diary of the unknown witch. They landed harshly upon the ground. Hermione and Ron stumbled a bit at first, clearly not as used to such abrupt travel as Harry. They were standing under an enormous willow tree beside a large loc a few yards before it. A handsome manor house surrounded by elaborate gardens, including a fountain and roving white peacocks stood in the background. The picturesque grounds were enclosed by wrought-iron gates to permit only select individuals to pass through them as if they were smoke. Harry looked around frantically for his Mum and Dad, hoping they were included in the diary. They were no where in sight, making it obvious the memories were still under the writer's control. Who exactly that was still remained a mystery. Harry felt Hermione's reassuring hand on his shoulder as she shook her head, clearly Hermione had realized exactly what he had just concluded.

A little girl sat casually under the lazy arms of the willow, her nose in a book too thick for a child her age. The young witch's black hair was in two long pigtails, tied with forest green ribbons that matched her jumper. Her thick wavy locks mimicked the color of a raven, giving the illusion of a navy blue reflection as the light graced her midnight tresses. She certainly didn't fit the profile of a typical Malfoy, besides her eyes that is. Yes, her grey eyes were shared by all the Malfoys. She had escaped the slick blonde hair but those eyes were impossible to mistake.

"Harry, I think that's the girl from the picture," said Hermione. "It has to be her as a child."

"Yeah, that's definitely her," declared Harry. "But why would Sirius-"

Suddenly, a young boy sprung down from the tree out of nowhere to land before the little girl. He held his hands beside his temples, creating moose ears and puffing his cheeks out whilst making a shocking noise. The trio jumped back, visibly startled, but the raven haired witch didn't even blink. She just continued to read her book as if he didn't exist. Harry knew in an instant exactly who the immature young wizard was; Sirius Black. Even at eleven years old it was obvious that Sirius had the beginnings of handsome features. His dark hair hung carelessly before his eyes while his cheekbones could be spotted a mile away.

A throaty female voice began to ring out above the trio, reading the diary's secrets aloud.

"Your parents owe the world a retraction," I sighed, determined not to make eye contact with him. Sirius, unfazed, merely planted himself down beside me, plucking my book from my grip. He looked at it as if it were some sort of mysterious entity that he had never seen before. He turned it to the side and upside down in his hands, examining it curiously. I released a groaned and snatched it back from him, returning to my page.

He pulled out a shiny red apple from his jacket pocket and took a noisy bite. He sported his customary irritating cocky grin and looked over my shoulder. I knew he and his mother were coming over for tea in the afternoon, and I thought that hiding behind the gardens in the backyard could elude Sirius from bothering me. I was wrong, again.

"You know, Morgana," he smiled. "You can spend your whole life with your nose buried in a load of books, but brains aren't everything. In fact, in your case they're nothing."

"Clever, Sirius," I said, rolling my eyes. "And you wonder why I get a fierce desire to be lonesome whenever you're around. You are just such a delight to be around."

"I know," he smirked, wallowing in my insults. "It must be because I don't have fur or feathers. I overheard your mum telling my Mum she caught you chatting with your peacocks again-"

"Humanity is overrated," I snapped, trying desperately to concentrate on my book. "You're proof of that."

"You don't have to be so testy, Morgana," Sirius smiled, twirling a dark stand from my pigtails. "I'm only trying to help. I mean, you don't want people thinking you're a nutter…well, more of a nutter-"

"What exactly is it that you want, _Black_," I sneered, slamming my book shut upon my lap and pulling my hair away from his grasp. "Besides to just bother me." Sirius grinned triumphantly at my heated reaction. I cursed myself for allowing him to have any effect on me. I'd been trying to ignore him since we were five, and I thought I'd managed to prevail against his provocation. He always seemed to enjoy my clear irritation at his remarks.

"Ah, now I remember why I came out here," he teased, pulling an envelope from his pocket. "How could I have forgotten?"

"Probably because you have the attention span of a lightening bolt," I spat, reaching for the letter with no avail. Sirius pulled it back and hid it behind his back. I shot him a nasty glare and sat up on my knees to try to snatch it from him again.

"Give it here," I demanded.

"You don't even know what it is," he tormented.

"Well, what is it then?"

"Let's think," said Sirius, smiling arrogantly. "What sort of parcel do young witches and wizards receive around their eleventh birthdays-"

"My Hogwarts letter?" I breathed.

"Oh, that must be why your mum made me run out straight away to deliver it to you," said Sirius. "Maybe you should be a bit courteous-"

"I'm giving you two options," I threatened. "Either you give me the letter and live to see another day, or you can keep being a royal arse and I make Regulus an only child. The choice is yours."

Not allowing him time to give which would undoubtedly be another smartass response, I propelled myself forward, knocking him onto his back. I wrestled the folded envelope from his grasp and tore it open. I pushed myself back into a proper sitting position, leaving Sirius stunned on the grass. I'd been anxiously awaiting my letter since Sirius had received his three weeks prior and decided to tease me relentlessly that I wouldn't be receiving a letter because my magical abilities were no more able than that of a squib. I knew he was full of dung, but after two weeks with no postage I started to get a bit uneasy.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Miss Morgana Oleanne Malfoy  
Malfoy Manor  
7 Commodore Lane  
Wiltshire, England

Dear Miss Malfoy,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress

**Uniform**

_First year students will require:_

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

**Set Books**

_All students should have a copy of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells _(Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Theory _by Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginners' Guide to _Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _by Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _by Newt Scamander

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _by Quentin Trimble

**Other Equipment:**

1 wand

1 cauldron

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

_Students may also bring an owl, cat or toad._

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"I was hoping you'd go to Durmstrang," said Sirius, pushing himself up on his elbows.

"I was hoping you'd go jump off a cliff," I smirked, rereading my letter excitedly. "But I guess we can't get everything we want."

Sirius sat up completely, looking over my shoulder to read over my shoulder. I shot him a dirty look and pulled away so he couldn't see the letter. He rolled his eyes and fell back on his elbows again to pout like the spoiled little brat he was.

"Well, Svetlana went to school there, didn't she?" he said, shoving his shaggy hair from his eyes. "And I thought you got their acceptance letter weeks ago."

"Yes, Sirius, my Mum went to Durmstrang," I sighed, folding the letter back into the envelope. "But my Father went to Hogwarts, so I have the ability to choose where I receive my education."

"I would choose Durmstrang if I were you," said Sirius, smiling arrogantly. "You'll just embarrass yourself when you're sorted into Hufflepuff-"

"I most certainly will not!" I flouted defiantly. "The second the Sorting Hat is placed on your thick skull it'll declare you, "Too stupid to sort.""

"Well, I bet it won't even fit on your big fat head," said Sirius, clambering to his feet the same as me.

We were eye-to-eye, nose-to-nose. I battled the urge to deck him square in the jaw. Everything about him infuriated me; his deliberately untidy hair, his egotistical persona, and his cosseted lifestyle that made mine seem austere. I knew he hated me just as much, if not more as I hated him. He constantly ridiculed me for my attempts to make him feel inferior to me, which wasn't intentional because it's simply a reality. We'd been at each other's throats since we toddlers, and our repugnant feelings for each other hadn't changed in nearly a decade.

"You think you are just so much better than me, don't you?"

"No, I don't _think_ I'm better than you," I retorted. "I _know_ I'm better than you!"

I grabbed my book off the ground and swiftly took off towards the house, anxious to lock myself in my room away from Sirius. His hands became balled into fists as his face turned a deep shade of red. His entire body was completely rigid as he looked after me with great rage. I stared straight ahead, determined not to give him a second glance.

"You're an anti-social trollop!"

"I'm not anti-social," I shouted, my eyes still glued upon the backdoor. "I just can't stand you!"

--

I must have slammed the door a bit harder than I intended because I hadn't taken more than half a dozen steps inside before my Mum strode into the study after me. Her black hair was pinned up tightly in a bun, strands of grey becoming more and more noticeable after each passing month. Her pale skin clung to her cheekbones, giving her face the appearance of being quite skeleton-like. Her constant expression screamed uppity and malevolent. A corset never left her slender waist while gloomy colored fabric adamantly decorated her stern figure. Though her hostile exterior eluded from her natural beauty, it was undeniable that she was still a magnificent looking woman. Her thin lips were pursed as she advanced towards me.

She grabbed my upper arm so hard that I instantly knew I would have a five finger bruise the following day. She jerked me fiercely to face her, her boney fingers tightening around my arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" she whispered fiercely in her thick Bulgarian accent.

"Going up to my room," I replied, tugging my arm from her grasp.

"Are you incapable of doing so without making such a commotion?"

"I don't know, let's find out," I retorted rudely, turning to walk towards the marble staircase.

My Mum wrapped her hand around my wrist and pulled me back to face her again, her eyes dancing with rage. She opened her mouth to scold me, but was thankfully interrupted by a voice calling from the parlor. It was Sirius's bint of a mother, Walburga Black.

"Oh, Svetlana dear, did you tell Morgana the good news?"

"I was just about to, Walburga," my Mum called back in a voice so sweet it made me ill.

"Good news?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest and popping out hip.

"Yes," my Mum said reluctantly. "Walburga and I scheduled a shopping trip next week to buy your school goods with you, your brother and Sirius."

"I suppose this little endeavor is mandatory?" I frowned, rolling my eyes defiantly.

"Yes, of course," she hissed.

That was the very last thing I wanted to hear at that moment. I would sooner die than spend an entire day with Sirius and his awful mother. Without another word, I dodged my Mother and darted up the steps to my bedroom. I could still hear my Mum's faux amiable tone calling back to Walburga.

"Oh, she is utterly thrilled," she lied through her unnaturally white teeth, returning to her seat beside her best friend.

--

**A/N: **_I hope you all enjoyed this so far. I've put a lot of work into it, and I hope it will show. I think my plot will end up being really well developed in a few chapters if you give it a chance! Please, review! I would so appreciate it!_

**Coming Soon: **_Sirius and Morgana visit Diagon Alley/Knockturn Alley, Morgana finds a couple new friends, Sirius meets a messy haired young boy, and Morgana receives a wand unlike any other._

--

**Review.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two**_

_The Legend of the Augurey_

--

_It takes courage to grow up  
and become who you really are._

--

_July 5__th__, 1970_

_A wise old man once told me, "The great gift of family life is to be intimately acquainted with people you might never even introduce yourself to, had life not done it to you." In my case, I certainly would not call that a "gift," especially not with the parents I was dealt with…_

Diagon Alley was packed with people, all sharing the same intentions as the five of us. However, my lovely Mother and Walburga thought that our needs were far more important than any other inferior being who shared the streets with us. We went to the best of everything shops; the best cauldrons, the best telescopes, the best robes and so on. I was already miserable five minutes into our shopping endeavor and after four hours with my Mum and Walburga's pointless superficial yammering I was considering suicide. The only pleasant aspect I could muster from our little trip was the fact that Sirius was just as much, if not more, miserable than I was. He was so fed-up, in fact, that he hadn't had the energy to pester me like he usually did. We hadn't said a word to each other since I called him "Dragon breath" after he belched in my face outside Pottidge's Cauldron Shop three hours prior.

Lucius, on the other hand, appeared quite content spending his day with the two intolerable women. He enjoyed being doted upon, being spoiled, and criticizing anyone with a lesser bank account or bloodline. That is where my brother and I differed, among other things. He had allowed himself to be brainwashed by my parents into thinking he was a superior race. I sometimes feared Sirius's younger brother was to suffer the same fate as mine. I suppose Sirius and I were both our family's black sheep in that aspect.

It took nearly an hour a piece for Sirius and I to be fitted for our robes at Twilfitt and Tatting's. I couldn't bare another hour of waiting while Lucius had his turn, as well. I needed to get away from the lot of them before I lost my mind.

"Mother?"

"Yes, Morgana," she said halfheartedly, smiling up at Lucius; her bloody pride and joy.

"May I go look about Quality Quidditch Supplies?" I said in the fakest saccharine voice I could muster. "Father promised me a new Snitch, and-"

"Fine, fine," she sighed, flicking her wrist at me to shove off. "Be back here in an hour."

I smiled victoriously to myself and snatched up my purse. Sirius, who was about to doze off in the chair beside me, suddenly realized I was about to be set free. He rubbed his eyes and stood up from his seat, looking desperate.

"If she gets to go then I want to go too," he objected.

"Fine, Sirius," said Walburga, rolling her eyes. "But I want the two of you to stay together."

"Of course," said Sirius, winking at me. "Let's go, Morgana."

Sirius took my by the arm and forcibly led me towards the exit. Once outside, Sirius and I were visibly rejuvenated. We looked at each other, knowing exactly what we were going to do.

"See you in an hour," I said.

"Stay out of trouble," he smirked, turning off in the other direction.

We had no intention of spending our hour of freedom together, that would be like throwing away the opportunity. I wasn't really planning on going to Quality Quidditch Supplies either. My Father had bought me my new Snitch as an early birthday gift two weeks ago, but my oblivious Mother hadn't noticed me chasing it around the courtyard nearly every afternoon since then. All I wanted to do was go and purchase my wand without my Mother's presence. That was the last item I needed to buy, and I wanted to finish my list as soon as humanly possible so I could just go home.

--

There were a lot of other children my age shopping around with their parents in the small shops along the streets. They looked so excited and pleased to be in their environment. Though I'd never admit it aloud, I wished -for only a moment- I was someone else. I was supposed to appreciate what I had. I was supposed to be thankful that my family had money, my parents had influence in the Wizarding community, that I was of Pure-blood; at least that's what I was told. I resented my fortunes more than valued them. I knew a lot of the other children my age had many friends, where I…well, I had none. I had been separated from any child not of Pure-blood since birth. The only non-family social interaction was with Sirius and Regulus, and I despised them both with all my heart. I think that must be why I am the way I am: cynical. I know I'm difficult to get along with. I'm relentlessly sarcastic, and my sense of humor is as dry as the Sahara. It's just my defense mechanism. If I wasn't a bit derisive then I fear I would be as genuinely malevolent as the rest of my family. I was so lost in my own thoughts that I almost passed my destination.

_Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._

The bell above the ancient wooden door chimed as I entered the store. Countless long, narrow, boxes lined every inch of the prehistoric building. I silently exalted my good genetics for granting me an allergy-free bill of health, for I fear if I had even the slightest dust aversion then I would be consumed with a fit of sneezes. There must have been at least an inch of filth covering every corner of the shop. I slowly made my way to the abandoned front counter, looking about for any sign of life. It was a bit eerie inside the building. The gritty front window disallowed sunlight from entering even on such a sunny day, giving a very dreary atmosphere. I stood on my tiptoes, propping myself upon the counter to look for the owner; no such luck.

"Er-hello?"

Suddenly, an aging grey haired man slid around the corner on a ladder. He sported a crooked, yet friendly smile, as he looked me up and down for several seconds. My heart was racing quite a bit from his entrance, but I merely swallowed my shock as I always did.

"Miss Malfoy," he finally said, climbing off the ladder. "I wondered when I'd be meeting you."

"So sorry," I said apologetically. "Have we met before?"

"Of course not, my dear," he grinned, leaning his elbows upon the countertop. "But no one could mistake those eyes for anyone but a Malfoy, silver as the moon, they are."

"Oh," I said quietly, suddenly wishing I could shut my eyes for the remainder of my lifetime. Ollivander looked at me suspiciously, noticing my distaste of being associated with my own last name.

"Do not be ashamed of your legacy, child," he reassured me, sensing my dismay. "It is not where we come from that matters but where we choose to end up."

I smiled feebly at the elderly wizard and nodded in reply. Pleased with his advice, his returned to his task at hand: finding me a suitable wand.

"Now," he said in a much more professional voice. "You are here for your first wand, no doubt?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Wonderful," he beamed. "Which hand is your wand hand?"

"My right," I said, extending my arm forward. A strand of measuring tape flew up from his pocket and instantly began taking my dimensions. I eyed the swift flying object curiously as it hovered about like a humming bird."

"I remember your father's wand," he reminisced. "Eleven and three-quarter inches, yew and centaur's mane, exceptional for charms. Your brother took quite sometime to match him with his perfect mate. However, after nearly two dozen attempts the thirteen inch, elm and dragon heartstring was his match. It's superb for dueling, you know."

"I know," I mumbled, remembering some of the awful stories he'd told me from school.

"Your mother," he said, visibly deep in thought. "I am not her wandmaker, correct?"

"C-Correct," I gasped as the tape tightened around my throat. "Gregorovitch of Bulgaria was her wandmaker. She went to Durmstrang, or I'm certain she would have gone no where else to purchase her wand than right here, with you."

Ollivander smiled appreciatively and nodded silently.

"What is her wand?" he inquired in almost disgusted tone.

"Er- nine inches, holly and Veela hair," I said.

"Ha!" he scoffed. "Veela hair? How utterly barbaric, I refuse to use Veela hair in my wands. The hair proves to make the most temperamental devices, completely unreliable wands in my opinion."

I didn't have a response. All I could think to do was shrug and smile, so that's what I did.

"Ah well, that is neither here nor there," he sighed, realizing my discomfort. "Let's see what I can find for you, my dear."

The tape disappeared back into his pocket before Ollivander climbed back onto his ladder and soared back through the numerous rows of wand boxes. I could hear the wheels rolling across the hardwood at a rapid speed, wondering how such an elderly man managed to steady himself. After several minutes he returned with two arms full of boxes for me to test. He opened the first box, examining the wand proudly before his face like a father of a newborn, and placed it into my hand.

"Eight and a half inches, birch and unicorn hair," he beamed. "Give it a wave."

I apprehensively flicked my wrist like he instructed and therefore completely shattered his hanging coo-coo clock, causing the wooden bird to spring across the room and through the front window. Ollivander bit his lower lip and gently took the wand out of my hand.

"Sorry," I said.

"No need, child," he grinned. "That is not the first nor the last time that will happen. Now try the eleven inch, yew and thestrals hair."

This time I gently waved the wand to avoid any additional destruction. However, my efforts were futile. A thick crack in the ceiling appeared above us. I cringed in embarrassment. Mr. Ollivander merely chewed the inside of his mouth, contemplating my next wand like a move on a chess board.

"Obviously not," he said halfheartedly. "How about the ten and three-quarter inch, maple and phoenix feather?"

I looked almost nauseas when he placed the third wand in my hand. I flicked my wrist even softer than before but I still caused an entire shelf of wands to capsize. I groaned, completely mortified, and handed him back the wand. I didn't even notice Ollivanders' peculiar stare at first. His eyes seemed to be staring without seeing, looking straight through me. I feared his lower lip would begin to bleed, judging by how hard his teeth were biting down upon it. His thumb and index finger ran up and down his chin repeatedly, seemingly unaware of his surroundings.

"Mr. Ollivander?"

"Maybe," he breathed, turning swiftly to disappear into the rows of wands again. I looked around uncomfortably whilst awaiting his return. This time when he reappeared there was just one solitary box in his hand.

"Mr. Oll-"

"Try this," he said quietly, delicately placing the wooden device in my palm.

As soon as the wand touched my skin I knew I hand found my match. It felt as if a warm sensation had taken over my entire body, deicing my soul. A slight gasp escaped my lips as my lungs filled with a pleasant nonexistent aroma. A golden glow was expelled from the tip of the wand. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my eleven years of life. Mr. Ollivander smiled, obviously pleased with himself, and accepted the wand from my hand. The pair of us stood in silence for several moments as I basked in the remaining seconds of my euphoria.

"My dear, are you familiar with the legend of the Augurey?" he inquired, eyeing me like some sort of extraordinary being.

"An Augurey is a sort of bird, isn't it?"

"Oh, an Augurey is much more than just a bird," he explained. "It is a Phoenix."

"A Phoenix?"

"Quite," he nodded. "The rarest form of the Phoenix in the world."

"That's very interesting, Mr. Ollivander," I said awkwardly, "but what does that have to do with me?"

"Everything, Miss Malfoy," he exclaimed as if I should have already known. "You see, I have only used one Augurey feather in all of the wands I have ever created. And that one feather, my dear child, is currently within the core of the wand I have just presented you."

"I-Is it safe to use?" I inquired apprehensively.

"I would not make a wand that was not perfectly dependable," he replied. "This eight and three-quarter inch, holly and Augurey wand is one of my most prized creations. I have been curious for so many decades to discover which wizard would be the one chosen for this particular wand, and I am pleased to finally be able to give it a proper home."

"But what is so odd?" I asked anxiously. "If it is just another form of a Phoenix then why is it so curious? Many wands are made from Phoenix feathers."

"You see, the Augurey is a beautiful yet mournful-looking avian with long greenish-black colored feathers. They nest in brambles and thorns, flying only in the heaviest of rain storms. But their physical characteristics are not what makes the birds so peculiar," he explained. "The Augurey is referred to as "The bird of death." As legend goes the bird's distinct cry is to be known as a death omen. It is utterly silent throughout every aspect of its life, but releases a bloodcurdling shriek whenever a death is to occur."

"So my wand is made of some demon bird's feather?" I snapped. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Curiosity, really," he said simply, shrugging his shoulders. "But it is an exceptional wand, my dear, do not doubt its brawn. This particular wand was meant for a specific holder, someone with very special abilities."

"Like what?" I asked anxiously.

"Oh, I think you know," he winked at me.

"I haven't the slightest," I replied hastily. "Now, how much for the wand?"

"Thirty Galleons, child," he smiled in an all-knowing manner, accepting the money from my purse. "You be sure to take care of this wand. Be good to your wand, and it will return the favor."

"I will," I said, sliding the wand into my purse and scurrying towards the door.

It was bizarre. I had heard from my brother that Mr. Ollivander obtained a sort of odd divination ability. He could read people. How could he not? I mean, he had to read a person's character and abilities in order to match one wand with them out of his countless creations.

"Oh, and Miss Malfoy," called Mr. Ollivander from behind the counter. I gripped the doorknob tight between my fingers and turned back reluctantly to face the elderly wizard. "Your secret is safe with me."

"How can a secret be safe when no such enigma exists?" I insisted. "Believe me, sir, I am no more gifted than any other witch or wizard my age. I am sorry to disappoint you."

--

Before Mr. Ollivander could say another word I turned the doorknob, my heart racing, throwing open the ancient wooden door to escape the thick tension that had engulfed the prehistoric wand shop. However, the door did not open as far as it should have. A blunt object stopped it from swinging all the way open. I knew when I heard a faint groan that the blunt object must have been a person. I darted out into the sunlight, pivoting to see the mess I'd undoubtedly made. I was right. I had knocked a small redheaded girl onto her backside, a blatant red mark on her forehead from where the door had smacked her. She propped herself up on one elbow, rubbing her forehead tenderly, her emerald green eyes squinted in pain.

"Shit," I said, kneeling down to assist the girl. "I'm really sorry. I wasn't paying any attention-"

"It's alright," she sighed heavily.

"Here, let me help you up," I said, extending my hand.

The girl accepted my hand, allowing me to pull her up to her feet again. She dusted off her jeans and sweater before returning to rubbing her wound. After a few moments of uneasy silence I cleared my throat and awkwardly shoved a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"Er-I'm Morgana," I said, sending her an apologetic smile. "Morgana Malfoy."

"Lily Evans," she said in a much more pleasant voice, obviously she had forgiven me for decking her with the door. "Nice to meet you, are you going to be a first year as well?"

"How'd you guess?" I smirked, crossing my arms. "The juvenile appearance, the clumsy disposition, or the undeniable disorientated expression?"

"Um, I was going to say because you just came out of a wand shop," said Lily, shrugging austerely.

"Oh," I said with embarrassment, "right. Well, I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing before I knocked you over. Sorry, again-"

"Wait," said Lily. "I was just about to go to Florean Fortescue's for some Ice Cream. I'm supposed to meet my parents there in a bit. They went to handle my affairs at Gringotts, and those lovely little gnomes seemed to be very busy today. I was just going to be sitting by myself, and I certainly wouldn't mind some company."

"They're goblins, actually," I replied. "But alright, I could go for some ice cream."

"Great," Lily smiled.

She locked arms with me, a friendly gesture I was not accustomed to. My body immediately became rigid as she almost appeared to drag me towards Florean's. It felt odd to be with someone my own age. Well, someone I didn't despise that is. I looked around at the crowd around us. Other students our age were walking with their friends down the street, and for a brief second I felt like I fit in, like I wasn't an outcast.

"So, I take it you're from a Wizarding family," said Lily cheerfully. "Considering you knew about the goblins."

"Yeah, I am," I replied. "Are you-"

"Muggle born," said Lily promptly.

"I've never met one of you before," I said, my eyes widening with fascination.

"One of _me_?" Lily smirked comically, furrowing her brow. "What does that mean?"

"It's just…well, I'm a pure-blood," I shrugged.

"So?"

"It's just," I sighed. "It's just my parents have sort of…well, my parents are idiots."

"I'm not completely oblivious to the Wizarding world, Morgana," said Lily. "I have a friend who is a half-blood wizard. He'll be a first year, as well. So I have a relative understanding of the magical hierarchy. I take it your parents abide by the social convictions I've heard about?"

"Yeah," I sighed. I felt like a royal arse. The first person my age who is actually decent to me thinks I'm some sort of blood racist. I stopped in my tracks, looking at the cobblestone street with a shamed expression. "I'll be seeing you then."

"Where are you going?"

"Well, I figured you wouldn't want to be around now-"

"Unless you believe that nonsense I could care less what your family thinks," Lily smiled. "And I wager you don't or you still wouldn't want to talk to me."

"Oh, I do," I interjected, suddenly realizing that it sounded like I was agreeing to her first statement. "No, I don't not….I mean, I do want to keep talking to you."

Lily started giggling at my uneasiness.

"Sorry, I'm not very good with er- with _this_," I sighed, my cheeks reddening.

"With what?" Lily asked lightheartedly, stifling her laugh.

"Well, with conversation," I admitted. "I'm not what most people would call…_personable_."

"Lucky I'm not most people then," said Lily, hanging her arm over my shoulders.

We walked into Florean Fortescue's, finding a table by the window and ordering two enormous sundaes with extra sprinkles. Lily went on to tell me about how her best friend, Severus Snape, was the one who helped her realize that she was a witch, and he and I were the only wizards she knew in the world. I told her that just because I grew up in the Wizarding world didn't mean that I knew all that many young wizards either. In fact, I told her, I could claim to have a friend…not like I really went out of my way to try and make one. I really liked talking to Lily. She didn't mind that I was sarcastic or my sense of humor was too dry. She took me for who I was without judgment, something I wasn't accustomed to. The oddest thing about her, however, was that she was kind, genuinely kind. She wasn't benevolent because she wanted something or because she was trying to put on a pleasant façade. Lily was kind because that was how she was. It was in her blood, something I did not find in those of pure-blood.

Midway through our conversation about some mysterious Muggle talking box called a "television," my eye caught a glimpse of a pair of passersby. I immediately sunk down in my chair, covering my hand over the side of my face. It was too late, however, I'd been spotted. Why did we have to sit by the window? I heard the door chime open, Lily eyed me suspiciously.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Everything," I groaned.

"Ah, Morgana, aren't you a parasite for sore eyes?" said Sirius, strolling in with a messy haired boy behind him. They both wore matching arrogant grins, pulled out two chairs across from us and sat down. He had only come to bother me, his favorite hobby.

"Don't look now," I sneered, narrowing my glare on him. "But there's one too many in this room and I think it's you."

"Who's that?" asked Lily, furrowing her brows.

"Sirius Black," I replied. "Just try to ignore him. Generations of inbreeding has turned his brain into mush."

"Touché, Morgana," said Sirius, shoving his shaggy hair from his eyes. "So who's this you've got with you?"

"I'm Lily Evans," said Lily swiftly in a distasteful tone.

"Well, it's nice to see you conversing with something that doesn't bark, meow, or squawk for once," Sirius teased, his little friend burst into a fit of laughter. Obviously, my anti-social reputation preceded me.

"And who is this delightful fellow?" I asked sarcastically. "I wonder how much you had to pay him to hang out with you."

"I'm James Potter," he replied, smirking pompously.

"Pleasure, I'm sure," I said derisively. "Well, any friend of Sirius…is a friend of Sirius."

I didn't notice it until just then but Sirius's new friend was eyeing Lily like some phenomenal being. A stupid grin was across his face, his eyes a bit glazed over. Lily apparently noticed because she awkwardly cleared her throat and fidgeted in her seat, avoiding his stare. Sirius looked over at James curiously, elbowing him in the ribs and bringing him back to reality. Lily peered over at me, and I merely shrugged in reply. This wasn't good.

--

_**A/N: **__Sorry I took forever for an update. I've been sick, and I've been able to lie down and write for longer periods of time. Bad for me, good for you guys. Anyways, I liked my first chapter better than this one, but I'm pleased with chapter two nonetheless. I hope you like it, too._

_**PS: **__I probably won't update until I reach 15 or mote reviews just because I want to make sure you guys are reading._

_**Coming Soon: **__The Hogwarts Express, The Sorting Hat, and Severus Snape._


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three**_

_Platform Nine and Three Quarters_

--

_What's done to children,  
they will do to society._

--

_September 1__st__, 1970_

_To say I was nervous about my departure to Hogwarts would be a vast understatement. I had packed, unpacked, and repacked about a dozen times because I was scared of over packing and then under packing. I was a wreck, but on the outside no one would have known I was the slightest bit anxious. I kept to myself up in my room and didn't come down for dinner the night before we were set to leave…_

The Hogwarts Express was stationed on the tracks before us, it's horn blaring and steam billowing. It looked the same as the previous times I had gone with my parents to see Lucius depart, yet so different now.

"Merlin, Lucius, we've nearly missed the train thanks to you," I hissed frantically.

Three house elves trailed after the pair of us, dragging the trolley of luggage behind us with great strife. The luggage was clearly top of the line. It's golden handles shined like pristine prosperity while the black leather trunk looked fresh off the dragon's hide. My lazy black cat lounged atop the trunk beside Lucius's enormous gray barn owl while a house elf struggled to drag a broomstick behind him. Lucius didn't play Quidditch, but first years weren't allowed to bring their own brooms and I convinced him to sneak mine in as his own.

"Be careful with that broom, you fool," spat Lucius, shoving the elf down along with the broomstick. "It is worth more than your life."

"Do not treat him like that," I sneered, helping the little elf up and carrying the broom myself.

"Honestly, Morgana, I do not understand why you sympathize with those _things_," he said, his nose literally in the air as he looked down at the feeble creature.

"They're not _things_," I retorted, pushing the elf behind me protectively. "They're people with feelings, and-"

"Oh, climb down off your soap box for once and get a move on," said Lucius, clearly bored with my speech. "We'll miss the train."

"I wouldn't have to rush if you weren't an hour late to meet me," I argued, helping the elves unload my luggage.

"I wanted to see Cissy," said Lucius, simply watching as the house elves and I did all the heavy lifting.

"And you couldn't have waited until you saw her on the bloody train," I replied, rolling my eyes.

I hated my brother's girlfriend almost as much as I hated my own brother. She was just awful, her entire family included. The Black descendants were infamous for being purity obsessed snobs who would never think of allowing one of their offspring to date anyone outside a respectable pure-blood family. The thought of following in such a path made my stomach churn. I promised myself that I would sooner run off and join some sort of convent than be married off to one of those inbred deviants.

"No, and Cissy-"

"_Narcissa_ Black is a selfish, ego-maniacal, trollop of a woman," I sneered crudely. "I cannot believe you would think to associate yourself with her, let alone call her your girlfriend. It's simply disgraceful."

"Do not speak about her in such a manner," he hissed.

Lucius's already thin lips became barely visible as he bit his tongue from retorting. He snapped at the house elves and pointed indignantly at the luggage we'd brought along to be moved at a quicker pace. He obviously couldn't bare another moment bickering with me. Several last minute students arrived as I finished unloading my things and our house elf unloaded Lucius's. I picked up my lethargic feline and clutched him snugly in my arms.

"I can speak about her anyway I damn well please," I snapped.

Lucius smirked viciously and leaned down low so his face was mere centimeters from mine. My confidence did not waver, I simply met his eyes and narrowed my glare to match his.

"Someone needs to teach you to hold your tongue," he whispered, venom dripping from every syllable.

"May god help the first person who tries," I replied.

An abrupt defensive hiss from my cat startled me as he swatted Lucius, scratching the side of his face and leaving three claw marks upon his translucent skin.

"Damn it," he shouted. "Bloody beast!"

He groaned in pain, grasping his jaw line and pulling back his hand to see a blood stain upon his palm. I smirked proudly at my moody, chubby black cat and petted him approvingly.

"Good boy, Mordred," I smiled, nuzzling his head under my chin.

I began to walk away without another word to my brother who was still moaning about his miniscule scrape.

"I'll see you at the Sorting Ceremony, _dear sister_," he sneered sarcastically after me. "Hopefully you will be in more pleasant spirits by then."

"Don't count on it," I called over my shoulder.

--

I climbed aboard the train just before it set off towards Hogwarts, combing the compartments for someone in particular. I paced up and down the hall until I finally reached my destination. I slid open the sliding door and darted inside with a cheery grin on my face that hadn't been seen in two months, allowing Mordred to scamper out of my arms.

"Lily," I beamed, the name escaped my lips in an almost breathless tone.

"Morgana!" the pretty redhead squealed, rising to hug me. I didn't hug her back at first, opting to awkwardly stand straight before bending my arms upward. I wasn't accustomed to hugs, or any gestures of affection for that matter. My family just did not hug or kiss o even show any hint of emotion. Emotion was a sign of weakness, and a Malfoy was never weak. Even my own parents remained physically at odds. It was still a mystery to me just how it was anatomically possible for my them to produce my brother and I when they barely made eye-contact. Maybe all marriages were like that. No, that couldn't be true. But I was quite certain my embrace with Lily was functionally incorrect thanks to my upbringing, and when I locked eyes with an exceptionally greasy-haired boy sitting behind Lily and I, looking curiously at me, I knew my certainty was indeed correct.

"Oh, Morgana," said Lily as if she'd forgotten the iron on her favorite jumper or something, pulling away and motioning her open palm at the boy, "this is my friend Severus Snape. He's the half-blood wizard I told you about. Sev, this is Morgana Malfoy."

"Pleasure," I said in a bone dry, curt tone.

"I already knew who she was," said Severus, his voice as dry as the Sahara.

"How?" asked Lily curiously.

"Everyone knows the Malfoys," he went on. "They're one of the most powerful families in the Wizarding World, not to mention the wealthiest."

"He's exaggerating," I lied, picking up Mordred and sitting down across from Severus. I sent him the nastiest warning look I could muster.

"I don't exaggerate," he said, unwilling to back down. I already didn't like him. "The only family that even contends with their influence is the Blacks, and their families have been alliances for decades. They practically rule―"

"And who are you, my publicist?" I snapped, my blood boiling.

"Oh, Morgana, he doesn't mean any harm," said Lily, attempting to stay neutral.

"He's trying to make me seem like some sort of uppity snob, and I'm not like that," I objected. "I'm not one of them."

"Could of fooled me with that last name," muttered Severus under his breath. "The eyes are a dead give away, you know. They all have them."

I narrowed my silver orbs at him, gritting my teeth. Severus Snape didn't make a good impression with me, though I wager he didn't make a decent impression on anyone really, and I don't think he cared.

–

The small wooden boats came to a halt at the foot of the castle. I stepped out of the boat hesitantly after Severus and Lily and filed into the dungeons with the rest of the first years. We were met a very stern looking woman with dark hair at the foot of the stairs. Lily locked arms with me. I smiled up at her, a real smile and held onto her arm as well.

"Good evening and welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house dormitory."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each had produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while still waiting."

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

As soon as McGonagall was out of sight, I felt a sharp tug upon my lengthy locks. Jerking about hastily, I came face-to-face with Sirius and two additional mates besides the James fellow I had unfortunately met before. I hooded my eyes, shooting him a disapproving glare. I swear to Merlin if I'm put in the same house as them I'd lose my bleeding mind.

"Hey, Medusa," said Sirius, smiling in his typical sly fashion that I despised. "Ready for the embarrassment of a lifetime?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" I spat.

"Well, I figure you're going to be pretty humiliated when the Sorting Hat announces they've made a terrible mistake," Sirius smirked, crossing his arms over his puffed out chest and winking at James. "You know Squibs aren't allowed into Hogwarts."

I moved forward to to deck him but a stern hand took a quick hold of my shoulder before I could pummel the rotten prat. It was Professor McGonagall, peering down at me in a disapproving manner. Three of the four boys snorted at my situation, pleased I'd been caught. Leave it to Sirius to make me give a terrible first impression. I'd remember to thank him with my fist later.

"Miss Malfoy, please excuse me for interrupting your highly inappropriate display, but the Sorting Ceremony is about to begin," she said in an extremely sarcastic tone. "Now form a line, everyone, and follow me."

McGonagall began leading the lot of us into the Great Hall. Two enormous double doors opened to admit us. There were four long tables, one of each house, I supposed. At the end of the hall, in front of the Head table was a small brown stool. Lying upon the stool was an ancient, weathered hat. The boys were still snickering behind me, causing my blood to boil. Lily looked sideways at me, weary of what I was going to do. Severus merely kept his rigid disposition, staring straight ahead without any sign of an expression upon his pale face.

"When I call out your name, please step forth and I will place the Sorting Hat on your head," she said.

"What house do you wager you'll be put in?" asked Lily feebly, I could tell she was much more nervous than she was letting on.

"Probably Ravenclaw," I replied, trying to ignore the teasing. "That's what I'd prefer anyhow."

Snape snorted obnoxiously from beside us. Shooting him a nasty glare and gritting my teeth, I inquired about his grunt.

"Do I amuse you?" I asked slowly.

"You know as well as I do that you'll be shipped off to Slytherin before your bum even touches the seat," said Severus, smiling to himself. "Your family has been baring Slytherins since the very beginning. What makes you think you're any different?"

"I just am," I said simply.

"A stern counterargument," said Snape sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Sod off," I sneered.

We crowded together around the front of the Great Hall, the Sorting Hat seemed to profess a sense of doom. It held the next seven years of our lives in its hands... er- well, I suppose it didn't really have hands. Professor McGonagall picked the hat up with her left hand and unrolled a scroll with her right.

"Abbot, Alice," McGonagall called.

The small girl with curly brown locks tentatively crept up to the stool. McGonagall gently placed the Hat upon her head once she'd taken her seat. Several seconds later the Hat bellowed out her fate.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The little girl sighed heavily, relieved and pleased with her house assignment. The Gryffindor table erupted in applause, welcoming their new addition. I spotted my brother out of the corner of my eye. He was cuddled up beside Narcissa, apparently unaware that they were in public. I held back my urge to vomit.

"Black, Sirius," McGonagall continued down her list.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

It took about two seconds for the Hat to pick Sirius's house, and he could not have looked more pleased with his placement. I knew that he was going to receive a stern talking to for not continuing his family's Slytherin heritage. However, part of me was actually happy for Sirius. He had the same desire to separate himself from his bloodline as I did. He arrogantly plopped down beside Alice Abbot, enjoying the cheers from the Gryffindors. I spotted him wink at the curly haired first year beside him, earning him a blush from the girl in reply and an eye roll from me.

"Camlann, Arthur," called McGonagall.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

I felt Lily grip my hand. I don't know if she even knew she had done it, her face frozen with fear as the C names turned to D's. Evans would be coming up soon. I heard her breaths become raspy. I didn't think anyone could be so nervous. I squeezed her hand reassuringly, a kind gesture I was not used to performing. She turned her neck to face me, forcing a smile. I suddenly wondered what Lily's home was like, her parents and such. She was unlike any human being I had ever met before. She was pleasantly curious. She smiled when it wasn't required, and she was never malevolent. I wager her parents must be saints to have created Lily, that was the only logical conclusion I could draw.

"Promise we'll still be friends no matter where we're Sorted?" she asked shakily, turning from me to Severus and back again.

"Of course," I nodded quietly. Snape nodded slowly as well.

"Evans, Lily," said McGonagall.

I swear I thought Lily was going to vomit, faint, or both. She walked up to the stool as if it were some deadly creature. Sitting upon the stool, McGonagall set the Hat upon her head. No more than a second or two longer than it had taken Sirius, Lily was Sorted.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

My stomach fell at the sound of her new house. I knew all too well that Gryffindor was probably the least likely house I would end up in. The cheers drowned out my solemn thoughts. When my name was finally called I almost didn't hear it.

"Malfoy, Morgana," McGonagall repeated when I didn't move, Severus nudged me sharply in the spine with his boney elbow to bring me back to reality.

I took my place atop the stool that oh so many wizards had sat upon before me. I gripped the outside of the seat, trying to cease my trembling. My tiny head was almost covered by the ancient Sorting Hat once McGonagall placed it upon my skull. A voice rang out in my ears, causing me to jump slightly with surprise.

_Ah, another Malfoy! Hm... not the typical make-up, however. _

_Please, Gryffindor, please._

_Gryffindor, eh? That's the first time a Malfoy has ever requested any house besides Slytherin. You are an oddity, indeed. The brains of a Ravenclaw, the work ethic of a Hufflepuff, the heart of a Gryffindor, but the blood of a Slytherin. You are my biggest challenge thus far._

_Really?_

_Quite, my dear. You are quite gifted I see, capable of great things. Tell me, does anyone else know of your ability? It is very rare, you know. I haven't seen one of you in many, many centuries._

_No, no one._

_Then I fear Gryffindor is not for you. Bravery is what dear Godric founded his house upon, and I can clearly see that you are still quite terrified of your gift. No, Gryffindor is not for you. Your destiny is much too great for the likes of Hufflepuff, and your resourcefulness is far too advanced for that of Ravenclaw. There is only one place for you, my dear._

_Please, anywhere but-_

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Damn," I cursed under my breath. Catching Lily's eye, she appeared ever so sad. However, she could not have been any more destitute than I was. I trudged to the Slytherins' table, reluctantly sitting in the seat my brother had reserved beside him. He wrapped his arm over my shoulders and kissed the top of my head proudly. I pushed him off and preceded to pout silently, wishing I could light the bloody Sorting Hat aflame. Apparently, I wasn't brave enough for Gryffindor. That's lovely to know that you're too much of a coward to be placed in the house you desired. Sirius stuck his tongue out at me from his table, and I returned the gesture. Maybe the Hat was right. Maybe I was destined for Slytherin, I certainly had the personality for it.

–

_**A/N: **Sorry this took FOREVER to update. I think this chapter is rubbish, but if I add in the next couple scenes within the contents of this chapter then I know it'll be way to long to post. I don't plan on taking so long to update this again. I know what's coming next. No worries._

_**Coming Soon:** Flying lessons, rivalries, friends and foes, third year comes and third year goes._

_**PS: **What would you like to see happen?_

_**Review, please!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Four**_

_Two Birds in a Cage_

--

_There's got to be more to life than chasing  
down every temporary high._

--

_October 1, 1970_

_The house of Slytherin was everything I'd expected it to be and much more. The dungeons that housed the common room and dorms were as dark and bitter as the students who inhabited them._

_I kept to myself, spending as much time as I could with Lily on the grounds or up in the Owlery. I rather liked the upper tower that housed the owls. No one ever trespassed there once the sun went down, leaving me to myself and the owls of course. They made much better company than my housemates anyhow. I'd spent several of my nights up in the Owlery, making my bed upon the hay. That was how the rumors began. When I started spending more time away from my bed at night tales of my vampirism began to rise, but that was only after I was declared a werewolf. I found it humorous along with Lily, as did Sirius, though I think he was the one who started the gossip that I was secretly a vampire. I refused to deny the grossly false stories, choosing to allow my fellow classmates to draw their own conclusions. I figured that as long as the Slytherins feared me then I would be left to myself, and that was exactly how I wanted it._

_During classes, I reluctantly partnered with Severus when we were forced to pair up. He was the only person who didn't believe I was dangerous, and I really don't think he would have cared if I was. I think Lily had asked him to at least attempt to be kind to me since I wasn't exactly personable, though neither was he to be quite honest. _

_Lily had flourished socially as I knew she would. It was impossible to dislike Lily, literally. I couldn't for the life of me understand why she insisted on spending all her time with me and Severus. We were the two least likeable human beings not only in Slytherin but in the entire school. I couldn't bring myself to question it, however, because whatever the reason was that she found to be my friend was good enough for me… _

For the first time since I'd arrived at Hogwarts, I was excited. No, I was ecstatic. Today was the day of our first flying lesson with Madam Hooch, the first year flying instructor. She was young with choppy brown hair and distinct, bright yellow eyes. I'd been anxious to get back on a broom since the day we'd gotten here, and now I'd finally get my fix.

Lily and Severus, however, we're not so pleased. Neither of them had ever flown upon a broom before, and they wished they could go an entire lifetime without doing so. Lily looked rather ill as the three of us along with Alice Abbot and Mary MacDonald walked towards the line of brooms that had been placed upon the grass inside the Quidditch pitch. I had restrain myself from running to the brooms. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the foul foursome were bringing up the rear, James and Sirius's eyes as bright as the sun once they locked their gaze on the broomsticks. I may have been able to restrain myself from running to the flight site, but Sirius's obvious immaturity prevented him from acting like a civilized human being. He took off like a bat out hell from behind us, once he came near my side, I extended my ankle and tripped the git. He fell flat on his face, earning a hardy laugh from James, giggles from the girls, and rather pleased snort from Severus. Sirius had skidded forward, dragging his chin along the grass to the point where he spit mud out from his mouth. I halted my strides, looked down at the fallen moron and smirked pleasantly at him.

"Let's hope you can fly better than you walk, Black," I hissed, whisking by him without another word.

"You know I've always been able to fly circles around you, Morgana," he snapped, pushing himself up to his elbows before James helped him to his feet.

"Yeah, only because you don't know how to fly straight," I shouted back over my shoulder.

The four Gryffindor boys claimed their brooms across from us four girls and Severus. Sirius and I were opposite of one another, our eyes locked, competing in an unofficial staring contest. Sirius and I had always been competitive against each other in everything since we were little kids. It didn't matter how silly or insignificant the task, we would claw the other's eyes out to win. When it came to Quidditch, forget about it. I was surprised we hadn't killed each other by now. We'd come so close to knocking each other to our deaths midair so many times that I'd lost count years ago.

"Welcome class, to your first flying lesson," said Madam Hooch, slowly striding in between the two lines of broomsticks elegantly in her tall black boots. "I'm sure some of you will have more experience than others, but I am confident with just the right amount of confidence and effort that all of you will be perfectly capable of being topnotch flyers in no time."

I noticed Sirius whisper something that was apparently hilarious to James (who stood beside him) because it drew quite the chuckle from the unkempt-haired boy. I knew it was undoubtedly an insult concerning my flying abilities. My jaw tightened, determined to prove my capabilities.

"Now to begin, please stand beside your broom, extend your right hand and say "UP," Madam Hooch instructed. "With some conviction, please."

It took me one attempt for the broom to snap immediately into my grasp, unfortunately the same result occurred to Sirius as well. James got it on his first attempt too, while it took Lily and Severus over a dozen demands for their brooms to slowly levitate off the ground. I thought Lily may burst into a fit of happy tears when her broom finally floated into her tiny palm. I smiled kindly and nodded approvingly at her. Her eyes were wide, smiling in an almost inhuman style.

"Once you have a firm hold of your handle, please mount your broom, easy now," said Madam Hooch, her hands laced tightly behind her back as she strolled between the two rows of students like a drill instructor. "Hover only a few feet above the ground- Black, Potter, I said a _few_ feet."

The two buffoons had shot up twenty feet into the air, looking down at the struggling beginners below like they were of lesser stature. Rolling my eyes, I watched with vengeance as they gradually lowered themselves back down to the rest of the class' level. Bloody show offs.

"To properly move your broom just think of where you would like to go such as right, left, forward, etc," said Madam Hooch. "It is really quite simple. You have complete control over your broom- Mister Pettigrew, I don't know where you learned to properly fly a broom, but you don't-"

Peter Pettigrew's plump body fell off his broom and landed harshly onto the grass. His three friends along with most of the Gryffindors erupted in laughter, even Pettigrew smiled childishly and shrugged. I frowned disapprovingly, narrowed my gaze, and stuck my nose high in the air.

"Well, anyhow," Madam Hooch sighed, looking down at Peter momentarily without comment before returning her attention to the rest of us more competent students. "Spread out and try practicing your control. If you're a beginner, don't fly higher than a few feet off the ground at first."

I was gravely disappointed with what this lesson was turning into. I had expected to have the opportunity to show off my flying skills and feel the cool autumn breeze against my cheeks, that liberating feeling that was one of only a few things that could warm my icy heart. Then I heard Madam Hooch's proposal that caught my interest immediately.

"For those advanced flyers, do I have a couple volunteers to demonstrate the abilities of a Snitch and-"

"ME!" Sirius and I said simultaneously, our arms shooting into the air at rapid speed.

Our eyes locked after we'd realized we had each other for competition, smiling wickedly. I could feel Lily's eyes on me, surprised at my sudden outspoken remark. I barely spoke to teachers let alone in class. Madam Hooch's neck jerked back as a reflex, shocked at how fast she had her two volunteers.

"Er- alright then, great," said Madam Hooch apprehensively, pulling the small familiar golden orb from her pocket. "Now, you two know the rules, first to catch the Snitch wins. Let's keep this clean and-"

She didn't get to finish her sentence. Once that winged orb left her fingertips we were off, sending a gust of wind so strong in her face that it knocked her on her backside. We were zooming up, up higher and higher into the air. Our eyes glued to that shiny devil, yet feeling the presence of one another so close that I could smell Sirius's disgusting musk beside me. I felt that familiar feeling of cool air, freezing my cheeks but warming my insides. There weren't many things that made me feel free, but flying was one of those things. The only downside to my love for flying was that Sirius shared it as well. He felt as trapped as I did and once a broom was beneath him all his worries disappeared along with any inhibitions. Sirius and I were two birds in the same cage, trapped behind metal bars that would never be opened. We'd never be released from captivity no matter how hard we fought, our wings would always be clipped to prevent our escape. We could never breakaway from where we came from, we were eternally caged birds so whenever we had the opportunity to fly we had to take it.

"Back off, Malfoy," Sirius shouted, the wind whipping back his straggly black hair.

"Never," I bellowed.

Sirius abruptly nudged me harshly with his shoulder, trying to sway me from my path. However, I was a trained hunter, nothing could distract me from obtaining my kill. A distant call from Madam Hooch to play fair or something like that was drowned out by the dull _ZOOM_ sounds from our high speed maneuvers. The Snitch suddenly took a path directly vertical above the center of the pitch, Sirius and I spun in an elegant twister like manner, spinning about to gain more altitude than the other. When I saw Sirius's hand outstretch out of the corner of my eyes I nudged him even harder than he had nudged me. His hand shot back to grip his broom to avoid falling, and I smiled, pleased with my actions. The Snitch then took a nosedive, plummeting towards the earth. My length raven-haired locks flew behind my head like a wild horse's mane.

"Damn it, Morgana," Sirius yelled, matching my speed again.

"Oh, just shut up," I screamed.

Pulling up at the last possible moment, the Snitch remained horizontal a couple feet off the grass. A dozen of our classmates dove in every which direction to avoid being pummeled by the pair of us at our heightened speeds. Madam Hooch was shouting indistinguishable words just before I leaned forward on my broom, extending my open palm to grab the Snitch. Sirius did the same. The winged orb dove down another foot and the two of us plummeted face first onto the ground, toppling atop one another several times before I finally came to a halt on top of him. Both of us were out of breath, our faces inches from each other, sweat dripping from our foreheads. Once our senses were regained only a few seconds later, I opened my palm proudly, holding my prize: the Snitch. Sirius gritted his teeth furiously and threw me onto my back to snatch it from my hand. Before we knew it we were rolling around on the grass like a pair of rabid animals, clawing and biting at each other for the Snitch that I had already won and refused to give up. The typical cliché circle of students encompassed our violent scene, looking on mindlessly until Madam Hooch took a firm hold of each of our shoulders to separate us. We continued to fight to get to one another for an additional minute or two while she physically dragged us towards the castle, leaving the rest of the class in stunned silence behind.

A smile graced my lips at the sight of blood trickling from Sirius's nose. That was courtesy of me, and I was rather proud. If my own lip wasn't in immense pain and tasting of blood then I would have been ecstatic even. Handfuls of grass occupied our dark hair, our robes dirty, ripped, and wrinkled beyond repair. My skirt had a six inch slit that had appeared in it that was definitely not their prior to our dispute. Our eyes remained locked upon one another, breaking the gaze would show weakness, something neither of us were raised to acknowledge we posessed. Madam Hooch, looking utterly flustered, kept muttering something about "unbelievable, irreprehensible, idiotic, immature." She didn't need to explain where we were going. We knew exactly where our destination was: Dumbledore's Office. That was where all the teachers sent students who were too out of line to handle. When we approached the spiral stone staircase that typically remained sealed off came into sight my assumption was confirmed. With a stern shove forward, releasing our shoulders, Madam Hooch nodded for us to climb the steps to our inevitable doom. The two of us looked back at her over our shoulders, sending her looks as if we were questioning her seriousness of this threat. She crossed her arms snugly over her chest and nodded towards the opening again. Frowning reluctantly, Sirius shoved me forward to lead the way up the steps. I shot him a nasty look but knew now was not the time to seek my revenge. That could wait.

Dumbledore's Office was exactly as I'd pictured it. It was decorated with countless doodads and unknown figurines. Golden instruments brightened every inch of the enormous circular room. Bookshelves served as wallpaper while a solitary mahogany desk occupied the center of the room. Beside the desk, the most magnificent aspect of the room caught my eye: a Phoenix, a real live Phoenix. Without a single inhibition, I blindly strode forward towards the beautiful avian. The Phoenix looked old, but it didn't distract from its wonder. It almost seemed to grin at me as I approached it, smiling in a trance of amazement. Sirius rolled his eyes like I was an idiot from behind me, pulling grass from his dark locks.

"Hello there," I said pleasantly, gently petting the top of the bird's head. It cooed quietly against my fingers, leaning against my skin.

"Too bad you can't be that nice to… you know, a human," said Sirius, frowning severely.

"Too bad you can't comprehend when to shut up like… you know, a bird," I snapped.

Suddenly, a ball of flames erupted, encompassing the bird within its fury. I gasped, stumbling backwards. With another flash of light the same place the bird had just been was now occupying a pile of ashes. My eyes were the size of saucers, my heart beating wildly. I'd successfully inadvertently murdered the Headmaster's pet.

"What did you do, Morgana?!" Sirius gasped. "You killed it!"

"I- I didn't do anything," I breathed. "I swear!"

"You must have done something because-"

"Not to worry, Miss Malfoy," a calm, yet commanding voice interrupted: Albus Dumbledore. "You didn't do anything wrong. Fawkes has merely come to the end of this life. I've been wondering when this day would finally come."

"I'm sorry for your loss, sir," I frowned, looking down at my Mary Janes.

"Don't be, my girl," he smiled warmly, looking down at me over his glasses. "What many do not know about the Phoenix is its ability of rebirth. It is best known for its tears capable of healing any ailment, but its ability to die then be reborn is just as wondrous in my opinion."

No sooner had Professor Dumbledore spoke those words had a tiny beak popped out from beneath the pile of ashes. He was right, a baby Phoenix was fighting to climb out from the dust. I smiled to myself, and Dumbledore appeared intrigued at my interest in the Phoenix.

"Would you like to hold him?"

"Oh, I couldn't," I said quickly, erasing the smile that had unknowingly graced my lips.

"I insist," said Dumbledore, brushing off the chick and handing it to me.

Cradling it in my hands, I held it against my chest, brushing his feathers tenderly. Sirius stared on at me, amazed at my ability to be kind most likely or just at the fact that Dumbledore didn't automatically take a firm dislike to me like most people did. Even when told prior of my personality people hated my character. I overheard Alice Abbot and Mary MacDonald refer to Severus and myself as mangy stray cats that Lily took in out of the kindness of her hear, and that we should be pitied not feared. I hadn't been too involved with conversation with them since then, not like I really had been before.

"He's taken a liking to you," Dumbledore grinned, "but I wager visiting Fawkes is not what brings the two of you to my office this afternoon. Tell me, what happened?"

The two of us started talking as fast as a hummingbird's wings, each pointing directly at the other. Dumbledore did not react oddly, however, he merely nodded kindly, apparently taking in the nonsense we were rambling on about. He must have had ages of practice because I could barely understand the words coming out of my own mouth let alone Sirius's, and how Dumbledore managed to multitask both of our explanations was beyond me. We were both gasping for air when we finished each of our sides of the story, and Dumbledore never lost his genuine grin.

"And who caught the Snitch then?" he asked calmly.

Shifting the tiny bird into my left hand, I pulled the golden Snitch from my right pocket and flattened my palm to show my catch. Dumbledore slowly accepted the orb from my grasp and examined it as if he'd never seen one of such majesty before.

"It sounds as if you'd make a fine Seeker, Miss Malfoy," Dumbledore said quietly, his eyes still surveying the Snitch. "And by the looks of Miss Malfoy's lip, it appears as if you would prove to be a prominent Beater, Mister Black. However, I fear if the two of you cannot remain neutral then it is unlikely that either of you will survive until your House's Quidditch Try-Out's next fall."

Sirius and I looked sideways at each other, either of the corner of our mouths' curling up into matching arrogant grins.

"Though I do not agree with your violent antics, I cannot condone a bit of rivalry," said Dumbledore, placing the Snitch in his pocket and carefully accepting Fawkes from my hands. "Life would be rather dull without a bit of _friendly_ competition. Next time the two of you decide to practice your abilities please place more emphasis on the _friendly_ and a bit less on the _competition_, alright?"

"Yes, Professor," we chimed in together, crossing our fingers behind our back.

"Good," he nodded, pleased with our agreement. "Now, that will be ten points from each of your houses, but I think I can excuse a sentence of detention as long as you refrain from such displays again."

"Thank you, sir," we replied.

"Very well," he smiled, placing Fawkes upon his perch once again. "Now go on and return to your next classes in a much more civilized manner, if you please. I'd also recommend stopping by Madam Pomphrey's office beforehand so that she may take a quick look at your battle wounds."

We nodded and scurried down the stairs before he could change his mind and serve us with a pair of detentions. We breathed a heavy sigh of relief as the spiral staircase closed behind us.

"That was lucky," said Sirius.

"I know," I replied, looking from Sirius to the hallway that led to Madam Pomphrey's. "So… race you to the Hospital Wing?"

"You're on," said Sirius, a wicked grin spreading across his face, contradicting everything Dumbledore had just instilled in us.

I took off towards the Hospital Wing, only getting a few yards before Sirius had tripped me like I had done to him outside only an hour earlier. I, however, gripped the rear of his robes and took him down with me. Both of us fought each other to climb to our feet first, wrestling like a duo of baboons against the stone floor to win. Neither of us knew that no matter the winner, we were both the losers in the game we were playing.

--

"Dumbledore hasn't changed," Harry mumbled to himself, smiling despite himself, plopping down upon the bed.

"What in bloody Christ's name is going on?" Ron shouted, landing harshly on the bed along side his two best mates as well. Hermione covered his mouth immediately, holding her index finger against her lips to shush him fiercely. They couldn't be heard by the outsiders, especially not Sirius. Harry looked to Hermione, the logical one of the trio for answers, she had none.

"As much as I hate to admit it," Hermione sighed. "I second Ronald's grotesquely ineloquent sentiment. This is all rather bizarre, isn't it? I mean, this woman… this girl, is Lucius Malfoy's little sister… Draco's aunt, and no one has ever breathed a word about her before, not once. It's not impossible, but it's just odd that-"

"I just don't understand why Sirius would have this girl's diaries," said Harry, "I mean they obviously disliked each other and it isn't like they were related in any way. It doesn't makes any sense."

"What do you wager she's keeping from everyone?" asked Ron, looking over to Hermione who was flipping through more wrinkled pages.

"I don't know," she frowned, "but it is obvious it's a burden on her conscious."

"I've got another question," Harry interjected in an almost perturbed tone. "She was best mates with my Mum and no one has mentioned a single word-"

"You didn't know about Sirius until two years ago, Harry," Hermione corrected him gently. "Just because someone isn't mentioned doesn't mean they never existed."

"I know that, Hermione," Harry frowned, "but this is different."

"Maybe we're making a big deal out of nothing," said Ron, smiling awkwardly, shrugging his gangly shoulders. "It's possible that he stole this girl's diaries as a prank, you know, to be cruel. It wouldn't be all that surprising, would it? It's no secret they hate each other."

"Doubtful, Ronald," said Hermione, shaking her head. "I'm not doubting your logic, but I can't imagine Sirius would put so much effort into holding onto these diaries after so many years. If he was going to use them as blackmail then he would have had them at Hogwarts and then chucked them, right?"

"You'd think," Harry shrugged.

"These pages are all covered in dirt," Hermione grimaced. "I can't read the writing for a few pages. It looks like it was dropped in a mud puddle or something."

"Maybe it's dung," Ron smirked, earning a swift punch in the arm from Hermione. "Bleeding hell, Her-"

"As I was saying," she began again, smiling proudly to herself. "She didn't write much for awhile, but the next readable entry is dated… November 7th, 1972... That would be about two months into their third year, right?"

"I thought you didn't want to invade Sirius's privacy," Harry smirked, crossing his arms pompously over his chest.

"This is more of an educational opportunity, Harry, I misinterpreted your intentions before," she blushed, making hasty excuses for her actions. "Besides, we're not invading Sirius's privacy, per say, if anyone's it would be Morgana's and we don't even know if she's… you know… alive."

--

_**A/N: **Um, thank you so much for all the reviews. You guys are amazing, seriously. I appreciate it so much. I've just gotten back into this fic for some reason. I am eternal Sirius lover, and I am basing Morgana Malfoy a lot off of Morgana Le Fay, so I love her an equal amount. You may catch the hints at the Arthurian legend that I've tossed in since Chapter One. I think there are three… anyways, I hope you liked this chapter even though it was sort of just one scene. The fic will become much more steady once I reach their 5th year which will be moderately soon. It will all make soon why her diary is all gross and screwed up once they move onto the next one during her 5th year. I'm excited. _

_**PS: **Her relationship with Lily will be less one dimensional from now on. I know I haven't been too descriptive so far, but I plan on having them have more one-on-one conversations from now and explore their friendship etc. Oh, && sorry about any typos for now. I'm heading home and I don't have time to properly edit before I post this. I'll correct it soon, promise!_

_**PSS: **What have you enjoyed so far? Are you liking Morgana, or is she coming off too cold? Do you know what her secret is?_

_**Coming Soon: **Morgana faces off against Sirius and James in more ways than one, will Sirius choose to expose Morgana's one weakness? Family ties loosen and the unwanted bond Sirius and Morgana share grows in response whether they like it or not._

_**Review, please.**_


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